


With All My Heart...

by smolandgrumpy



Series: Dear Dean Universe [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Life After War, PTSD, Post-War, WWII, WWII AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21693712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolandgrumpy/pseuds/smolandgrumpy
Summary: “Grant that I shall never seek so much to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, or to be loved as to love, with all my heart.”
Relationships: Dean Winchester/OC, Dean Winchester/OFC
Series: Dear Dean Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563784
Comments: 13
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**May 2nd, 1946**

Hi Sammy,

I’m writing to you on the first page of the new notebook Jamie gifted me. 

She’d caught me scribbling notes on papers around the house-- habit I picked up while I was a prisoner in camp, I guess. I just feel like it’s the only way I can tell what’s really going on in my head. I’ve seen things, Sammy, and I’ve done things I’m not entirely proud of. 

I remember there was a day when I woke up and my boots were gone. Apparently, if you don’t tie it to yourself at night, you will wake up without them. I’ve learned it the hard way. I spent a couple of days walking bare feet in the freezing cold. I almost lost a fucking toe, can you imagine? I can be thankful that I was an officer and didn’t have to work outside. I walked upon a dying soldier one day, his boots were still intact. I took it from him, Sammy. Of course I waited until he was gone. I still feel bad about it to this day, but those boots were the only thing that kept me from losing my feet. I tied them tightly around me ever since. I know you wouldn’t be proud of what I’ve done, but I just had to survive. I promised Jamie to come back and that promise was literally the only thing that kept me alive. 

You remember the feeling of hunger we had while Dad was gone for a long period of time? Where we barely had enough to get by and we ate cereal with water because milk was just too expensive? Now, take that and make it 10x worse. The feeling of hunger in camp is always present. There was not a day, an hour, a minute where I wasn’t hungry. You adjust through time, but the road from being hungry to your stomach feeling numb, that’s the worst. 

I don’t even know why I’m writing about camp because it’s basically the only thing I don’t want to be reminded of. Back to the notes, shall we?

There were a couple of notes around the house, that always started with  _ Hi Sammy _ , but I’ve never gotten around to write more. I just couldn’t, Sam. I didn’t know what to write to you, since I know that you won’t ever get to read them anyway.

On my Birthday, Jamie had the wrapped up notebook in her hand and told me that she wants me to write down my thoughts. It should be some kind of therapy, she said. I know she’s right, but I just couldn’t start to write anything in it until today. 

Hope’s sleeping on my arm, by the way, so I’m scribbling in here one armed, hope you can still read it. I know that you won’t, but let us just pretend that you will, alright? 

I’m sitting in our study, that used to be Jamie’s old room. There’s a window by the desk, and I can see our garden from here. Jamie’s tending to some crops, leaving me to take care of little Hope. I still don’t know if I’m doing a good job with her, but Hope doesn’t complain, so I’ll take that as I’m doing alright. She’s almost a year now. Her Birthday is a couple of days away, and we invited people to come over. Trenton’s Mom is coming, and some neighbors with their kids. Jamie didn’t want that, though. She said Hope’s too little to know it anyway, but Jameson insisted. Maybe he thought that he could score it with one of the single moms, I don’t really know. 

I live in her house now, and her brother Jameson (who’s apparently is a real charmer with the ladies) is living with us. He’s a war veteran, too. He had lost a leg, but he’s cheerful as fuck. I built him a new room downstairs next to the living room, at least now he doesn’t have to sleep on a couch. He helped me build it, too. The two of us were working well into the night every night for two weeks. I also took care of Hope during that time because Jamie attended nursing school in the evenings. During the day, I found work in a nearby Garage. The owner liked me enough to promote me, can you imagine? Me, looking over 20 people? Yeah, you’d have a field day making fun of me.

I went back to clear our old house, Sammy. I took your belongings with me. I hope it’s okay that I kept some things that were hard for me to part with. I gave some of it to Jess. I’ve contacted her after I settled with Jamie. I couldn’t do it before, there was just too much going on and my leg was still in a cast. I’m sorry. She’s doing good, Sammy. Did you know that she too was pregnant? I guess it happened on that last furlong back to the states, huh? I don’t know if she told you or if you held back this big news from me until you were ready to tell, and frankly now, it doesn’t really matter anymore. She had a little boy, he has the same eyes as you. There was no doubt that it’s yours, Sammy. Congratulations! 

I felt so proud, but also sad that you’ll never get to see him, never get to see him grow up, and he’ll never know how wonderful you are. His name is Samuel Jr. by the way, but if it’s true that the dead are watching over us, you might have heard it from Jess already. She told me she prays to you every night. We keep in touch and we had them both here for Christmas. We talked about you most of the night (apart from Jim and Jack, Jamie’s brothers who didn’t make it back home). It’s good, Sammy. Don’t worry about us. I’ll promise to look out for Jess and little Sam. You have my word. That’s the least I can do.

Jamie is pregnant at the moment. We’re expecting twins in about a month and a half. I should have known that there were chances that we will end up with twins since Jamie herself is a twin and her mother and grandmothers both were twins. I’m scared, to be perfectly honest with you, Sam. Imagine me with two tiny babies. Yeah, that’s a really good joke, isn’t it? Except it isn’t a joke.. Jamie is freaking out, since her mother died in childbirth, she’s afraid that she’ll end up the same and has written a will and what not. I don’t really know how I can help her get over the fear, since my head is not really the right place for fucking rainbows. It doesn’t mean I don’t try, though. We talk a lot when we get a quiet moment in bed. Her head on my chest, painting figure eights on my skin. It’s good if the subject of the discussion wasn’t so dark.

The girl is fucking huge, by the way. That’s the reason we cleared out Jamie’s parents old room and bought a new, really big bed. There was no way we could have fit in the old bed they had, with Hope occasionally coming in to snuggle with us during the night. Next step would be to clear out Jim’s room. But we’re in no rush. It seems like Jamie needs time, and who am I if I don’t allow her the time she needs to grieve Seeing that I’m still writing to you, I’m not exactly the poster child for it, right? 

Should have seen us when we went furniture shopping for a new bed, Sammy. Jamie waltzed through the store, and I carried Hope around. I think we were in there for hours, and Jamie still hadn’t found a mattress she liked. I let her, even if my arms were numb from carrying Hope, but she’s carrying two babies, so who was I to complain, right? The salesman though, he was so sick of us, I could tell. He pulled me aside, asking if I had no say in this. I couldn’t help but laugh. Of course I didn’t have to help Jamie put him into place. I just told him that maybe he should think about women as something else than a homemaker, then maybe we wouldn’t want another salesman about now. We found another sales clerk, the only woman working in there. Mom would have been so proud. It wasn’t an expensive bed, so the commission for selling ain’t that big, but we sure will have to go back there a couple more times and he can be sure that we won’t be asking for him. So, there’s that.

Actually, the salesman asked me if my wife could maybe make up her mind because he could have sold three beds (at least) during that time. I was a little taken aback when he said wife, not gonna lie. I asked Jamie to marry me, I really did. Jameson offered to babysit when there was a fair last autumn. I didn’t have a ring because I kinda spent all my money l on the new room for Jameson and nursing school for Jamie. Plus I gave Jess some, to help her get by with the little one. I gave her your ring which they handed me after they went through your belongings. I was surprised it was still intact. You shielded it pretty good from the blast, Sam. I gave it to her anyway, said that you wanted to propose and as a symbol, she could keep it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jess cry so hard. It’s good Sammy, I’m good with it. The ring was supposed to be hers. 

Anyway, I asked Jameson if it was okay for me to ask Jamie, because I was being polite and that’s what they do, right? Asking the dad’s? But since there’s only Jameson, I went along with it. Jameson just bent over laughing, asking me what took me so fucking long and honestly, I didn’t know. It was good as it was at first, but then I thought about Jamie writing to me once that Jim sent her the silk fabric of his reserve parachute so she could walk down the aisle in white silk. Yeah, I thought about that, and I knew that I had to because I wanted to see that, too. There’s no question that I love her though, so. 

We were at the fair, and I only had money for a toy ring. You know those from the gumball machines? It’s not romantic at all, I know, but I guess when you’ve been through war together, you can look past that. I got on one knee and she almost said yes. She was beginning to show already, and she said that even if she wanted to marry me, there’s no way the fabric Jim sent was enough to wrap around her so we kinda haven’t set the date yet, but it’ll be after the twins will be born. It kinda gave Jamie some hope and will to get through childbirth, I guess. I bought her gum later too, so there’s that. 

Cas stayed in Germany, but not for long if you were wondering. He went back into combat and was leading a battalion in Japan. I wrote to him regularly, because if someone deserves to come back it’s Cas. I was rooting for him. He came back, which I still don’t know how he pulled it off because I heard that 8 out of 10 people weren’t gonna return.

Remember Harvelle? He went back to France and married Lisa. He told me to come visit, but you know me, flying is not really my favorite. I guess I just need time, maybe someday we will. I know Jamie wants to. She wants to visit Jim and Jack, and I really wanna visit you, Sam. I really do. I hope one day I will be able to.

The war is now over, Sammy. Had been for about 6 months. We won, even if we’ve lost so much along the way.

How naïve were we to think that we’d get out of there alive? Remember, they prepared us pretty well, didn’t they? We thought it would be a piece of cake. Go in there, kill some Krauts, come out unscattered, and go home with a fat paycheck for the ‘service’. The moment I saw people being shot at when we got off the landing craft, I knew that this is no fucking piece of cake, and they’d been lying to us all along. But what could I do? You just have to keep on going, keep on fighting for a chance to somehow get back home. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t really fair to lie to us about how big it really was. It wasn’t really fair to let us think that we’d get to go home as soon as we did our deeds. It also wasn’t really fair to think that the war would be over by Chrsitmas and not handing out clothes to shield us from the cold. Nothing was fair, was it?

Well, some of us did get back, but we’ve all lost something in the war. Some a limb or two, some their hearts, and some did lose parts of themselves. We’re not the same person we went in as. We came out broken and bend. We can’t even get it fixed because nothing could fix what we’ve lost. 

There’s really nothing I could do other than carry on. I carry on for the ones who aren’t as lucky as me. The ones who won’t get to marry their loved ones, the ones who won’t get to see their children grow up, the ones who had their lives cut short, the ones who got their young adult lives stolen from them, most of all, Sammy, I carry on for you. I’m doing all the things you will never get to do, only because I know that you will come back and haunt me, maybe smack me over the head for being a jerk, if I don’t do it. I’ll do you proud, I promise. It’s the only thing I can do and think about. You were always the voice of reason, weren’t you? Even now if I have to think hard about doing something, there’s a voice in me asking “What would Sammy do? What would Sammy think? What would Sammy want me to do?” 

I miss you so much, Sam, you have no idea. If it wasn’t for Jamie, I don’t know if I’d be here. It’s her voice that guides me out of the dark whenever I wake up and think I’m still in Normandy. It’s her embrace that pulls me out of the water around me that threatens to drown me, whenever I have weird thoughts. It’s her, who carries me up to the bed whenever I look too far into a bottle because I can’t shut off the noises of shells exploding around me. I don’t think I even deserve her, but she’s an anchor to me and Jameson. I’m only a little sad that you guys never got a chance to meet, Sammy. If you did, I’d probably be too jealous of the bond you would have. No offense, but I’m greedy, and I want her to myself. I’m just being honest.

Hope’s awake, as you can see from the saliva smeared on the ink. I need to go get something into her belly.

I can’t believe how much I drifted off when all I wanted to say is Happy Birthday, little brother! I love you.

Dean


	2. P.02

_ You don’t think life could be any more miserable? Dig a hole in your backyard while it is raining. Sit in the hole while the water climbs up around your ankles. Pour cold mud down your shirt collar. Sit there for 48 hours. And so there is no danger of your dozing off, imagine that a guy is sneaking around waiting for a chance to club you on the head or set your house on fire. Get out of the hole, fill a suitcase full of rocks, pick it up, put a shotgun in your other hand, and walk on the muddiest road you can find. Fall flat on your face every few minutes, as you imagine big meteors streaking down to sock you. If you repeat this performance every three days, for several months, you may begin to understand why an infantryman gets out of breath, but you still won’t understand how he feels when things get tough.  _

_ — Bill Mauldin, NM, cartoonist & writer for war newspaper Stars and Stripes _

  
  
  


**May 18th, 1946**

Jamie’s fingers intertwined with his. She squeezed once, twice — a form of reassurance, Dean knew. His gaze was fixed in front of him, trying to pinpoint a dot in the distance, but the waves kept crashing in. His chest heaved as he took a deep breath too quickly.

It was a nice spring day. It was too warm for the season, and Jamie needed to get out of the house after last weekend when they celebrated Hope’s birthday. They had people coming around all the time and it made Dean uneasy. It was all new to him. He was still surprised that people cared about their daughter — their family — at all. He wasn’t used to it because he didn’t think that anyone ever cared about him at all except for Sammy. 

Jamie had suggested that they’d go to the beach. A month earlier, she came home with some fancy swimming trunks in hand, the kind that are skin tight with a belt around the hip and what not. They were apparently popular but what did he know? She assured him that they wouldn’t be going swimming anytime soon because she wouldn’t fit in her two-piece suit even if she tried, but she wanted him to have one when the time came. Dean was okay with that.

Yet, there they were, standing on a freaking beach, and Dean’s heart was thumping out of his chest. Jamie wanted to get away, to see the beach again even though she knew that Dean probably wanted to get as far away from any beaches, if he had a say in it. He also knew that he had to face it eventually, since Jamie loved the beach. 

“Ready when you are,” a soft voice whispered next to him, and he knew that she smiled up at him. He was just too lost in thought to even move his head to meet her eyes. His hands were sweating, too.

“Yeah,” Dean replied eventually. He tilted his head, looking down at her. 

Jamie wore a maternity dress, and he had his pants rolled up to his knees. They could hear Jameson playing peek-a-boo with Hope who sat on her uncles’ stomach some feet behind them. 

“Da-Da.” Dean could hear Hope say.

“Yes Hope, that’s Da-Da. We give them some time alone, huh? Where’s Hope? Where is my little Hope?” Jameson’s soothing voice faint in his ears. 

“Da-Da,” Hope said again.

Dean smiled. 

Hope was so attached to him. Maybe because she could feel that Jamie was pregnant and wanted more of his attention, which of course, Dean gave her. How could he ever say no to his little girl?

Dean turned the voices off because he really wanted to do this. Really wanted to be able to stand on a fucking beach and not freak the fuck out every damn time. Maybe  _ not  _ shit his pants, in the near future. Summer’s nearing and while he had an excuse last summer, with his legs still not healed enough, he knew that this summer, he had no excuses at all, except that he couldn’t fucking swim. 

Their toes dug in the sand. The fresh salty air breezed through their hair, and Dean thought that it was really fucking nice to be out in this weather, if his heart could stop beating out of his chest, that’d be fucking grand.

Dean closed his eyes, and Jamie tugged his hand back a little. He knew that she didn’t want to pressure him, probably even would tell him that they could blow it off, but he didn’t want to. He’d come this far. 

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes again.

*

  
  


_ The letter that was handed to Dean by Captain Mills read: “Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Force! You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The hopes and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you. _ ”

_ They were on deck of the ship crossing the channel. Dean read it carefully. Maybe, because he was itching to have something else to do other than to wait for a damn order to get off the cramped ship into a more cramped landing craft. Maybe, because it was a sign from home, something for him and his men to cling on. Maybe, he wanted to believe that he was doing something meaningful — if going into war and killing people can count as such.  _

_ “In company with our brave Allies and brothers-in-arms on other Fronts, you will bring about the destruction of the German war machine, the elimination of Nazi tyranny over the oppressed peoples of Europe, and security for ourselves in a free world. Your task will not be an easy one. Your enemy is well trained, well equipped and battle-hardened. He will fight savagely.” _

_ Dean snorted. Yeah, right. He knew that he is all that too or at least he could be, and his men are not far off. He was about willing to do anything that would get him back on American soil. The war has only started for him but already he was so sick of it. _

_ “But this is the year 1944! Much has happened since the Nazi triumphs of 1940-41. The United Nations have inflicted upon the Germans great defeats, in open battle, man-to-man. Our air offensive has seriously reduced their strength in the air and their capacity to wage war on the ground. Our Home Fronts have given us an overwhelming superiority in weapons and munitions of war, and placed at our disposal great reserves of trained fighting men. The tide has turned! The free men of the world are marching together to Victory! I have full confidence in your courage, devotion to duty and skill in battle. We will accept nothing less than full Victory! Good Luck! And let us all beseech the blessing of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking. Dwight D. Eisenhower.” _

_ Dean’s not a believer. Never been. If there has been a God, God sure as hell wouldn’t have taken their mother away from them. Sure as hell wouldn’t have let them grow up like they did. Eisenhower’s last words in the letter meant nothing to Dean. Still, he knew that some of his men were believers and when they sat down to pray together, Dean would find himself amongst them. He would do anything to make his men feel comfortable, to keep their morale up even if it meant for him to pray to a God that doesn’t exist in his eyes. _

_ He sat back and fished out his cigarette tin from the pocket and lit one before he looked up at the sky. There were no stars and he wondered how Sammy’s holding up. He hoped that his brother was somewhere safe.  _

_ He smoked one after another, before someone barked that they are going in. Dean popped in the last chewing gum he had with him before he climbed down the rope ladder into the LCV. _

_ They were cramped in the LCV, soldiers almost sitting on top of each other, there were only enough space for two platoons and he was thankful that it was Cas’. They were sitting side by side, their backs resting against the cold metal of the LCV as it drove over waves. Dean chewed on the last gum he’d packed before he left for the channel crossing. Right about now he wished that he had packed more. Soldiers were getting sea sick, some were throwing up which then in turn triggered some kind of a puking chain. He chewed more aggressively, trying to suck in the minty fresh feeling of the gum and push the stretch of puke out of his taste buds.  _

_ “You think the boys from Phase Two did a good job?” Cas asked him. _

_ “I hope so,” Dean answered.  _

_ Truth was, he didn’t know. The planes were to bombard the coastal strongholds, dropping bombs on the beach, creating craters for them to hide in. Yeah, Dean sure as hell hoped that they did their job. _

_ “We’re here!” The pilot of the LCV shouted and Cas’ got up to talk to his men in the front.  _

_ Dean looked around. “We’re too far from the beach!” _

_ “Can’t go in any further!” The man shouted and when Dean looked again, he knew why. _

_ It was madness. LCV were sinking further in the front, probably grazing some obstacles in the water. Soldiers were floating face down around them. The smell of gunpowder and explosives were penetrating. People were screaming, shells hissing around them. Soldiers that were still alive were calling out from the water and Dean shouted that they should help them, but his request was denied. “We are not allowed,” the pilot of the craft just said as he pushed the button for the deck to lower. Dean wanted to start an argument right then and there, but Cas put a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. Dean shrugged it off, fucking angry at everybody and everything as he bit on his tongue. _

_ “Good luck boys!” The pilot said, lowering the landing deck. Dean looked at Cas, nodding at his friend who visibly paled, and Dean didn’t think he looked any different.  _

_ As soon as the door were dropped low enough for the soldiers to get off, the machine guns began to tear them apart. _

_ “Cas! Climb over the side, they’re shooting at us!” Dean called on the top of his lungs. “Everyone, get off the side!” _

_ - _

_ “Where the fuck are we?” Cas pressed into him as they found a hiding place behind an iron obstacle.  _

_ Dean doesn’t know but there’s one thing he knew for sure. The bombers did nothing on this fucking beach. There was no crater, no fucking sign of a dropped shell. Nothing.  _

_ Before Dean could answer, Mills was next to him too and upon realizing that Dean doesn’t even have a rifle because he abandoned his at the bottom of the sea, Mills ordered Dean to go get a new one. He climbed over dead bodies, the water underneath his hands was red and thick. _

_ He somehow assembled half of his platoon, or what he assumed was half because he lost track of the number a long time ago. “Get the fuck off the beach! Move inland! Get off the beach! We’re getting murdered here!” _

_ With their uniforms still wet, they fought their way inland and only after they defeated the Krauts in their coastal pill boxes, did they allow themselves to stop and breathe. It felt like Dean had been holding his breath for the whole time since they got off the LCV. _

_ * _

Dean took another deep breath and exhaled. Tears were in his eyes. He sniffed, before he opened his eyes again. His cheeks were wet and he brushed it away with the back of his hand that was not holding Jamie’s.

He didn’t have to look at her to know that she wasn’t looking up. He knew that she always found it hard to look at him whenever he cried. She told him once that she felt like her heart broke every time, and Dean couldn’t say that he didn’t feel the same way when he saw her tears. Instead she squeezed his hand. It was to let him know that she was there. Dean knew that, too.

There’s another inhale before he started to say something.

“Okay.” And then again with a sigh. “Okay.”

He took a step forward and dragged Jamie with him. 

_ One step. _

_ Two steps. _

_ Three steps. _

_ Stop. _

He inhaled and exhaled. “I’m okay,” he said, to nobody in particular. Mostly to himself.

Jamie replied with a squeeze of his hand. 

Dean took another step. 

Another one and another. 

Until the waves crawled up the sand just below their toes. 

It was wet and sticky around their feet.

They stood there in silence, until the water reached around their toes, making them sink in lower into the sand. 

Dean chuckled, and when Jamie looked up at him, he was full on smiling down at her. “Thank you, Bambi.” 

  
  
  


********

  
  
  


**June 1st, 1946**

_ Hi Sammy, _

_ Jamie’s having her last week at the nursing school, and I just put Hope to bed. There’s not much I can do, since Jameson went out for a date, so I thought I’d sit down to write to you.  _

_ Jamie’s almost finished with her school. She has to drop out earlier because of her gigantic tummy (don’t tell her I said that, alright?) but they granted her a BSN degree anyway, because she apparently excelled in her studies.  _

_ I accompanied her to her graduation last weekend and I can’t say that I wasn’t proud of my girl. Jamie would maybe tell you that I shed a tear, but there was just really something in my eye, I swear! _

_ She introduced me to some of her classmates. The majority of them had loved ones in the war. I mean, that was no surprise, since we were so fucking many over there! One of the girls was there with her boyfriend. He asked me where I was stationed overseas, and I told him I was with the 116th Regiment, 29th Infantry Division and was fighting in Normandy. _

_ “My brother was with the 29th too,” the guy said. _

_ I didn’t say anything, didn’t want to know if I would have known him because I knew what would follow.  _

_ “He didn’t make it back.” The man looked me up and down, as if he’s checking to see if I had scratches, scars or a missing limb from the war. “You were in the same Division. Yet, you are here and he’s not…. Huh.”  _

_ I could see the tears welling up in his eyes, Sammy. I swallowed hard and suddenly, it felt too hard to breathe. There’s someone standing across from me who questioned my existence. As if I’m not doing enough of it on my own already. I could hear it in his voice, even if he didn’t say it. Something that sounded like “Why do you think you deserve to be here while my brother gave his life for this country.” Of course he didn’t say it like that, and I seriously couldn’t say anything else than “I’m sorry. I’m sure your brother fought bravely.” Jamie came along and dragged me away before it could get any more awkward. _

_ Anyway, I try not to think about it too much. I’ve signed up for a business program, by the way. My boss at the garage was thinking that maybe I could take over one day. He’s a real great guy, Sam. He’d lost his son, who was fighting on Peleliu. Said I remind him of his son. I’m so thankful for the offer and yes, soon I’ll be studying Business on the GI Bill. I’m grateful for it, because I don’t know if we could cover the cost with our growing family. _

_ Sam, Jamie took me to the beach. Can you imagine? I was terrified, not gonna lie, but it was good. I had to get over the fear eventually. It took me longer than I thought it would, though. All the while Jamie just waited, my hand in hers. I closed my eyes for a minute, thinking about what happened the last time I was at a beach, almost two years ago. I drowned out the voices and noises in my head, and when I opened my eyes again, all I saw was the beauty of the beach. The sand between my toes, the salt tinted breeze, the calmness of the waves. It was great. I think I finally made my peace with it. Took me fucking long enough. _

_ Jamie bought me swimming trunks, by the way. Honestly, I wouldn’t even like to be caught dead in them, but I guess that’s what people wear nowadays, huh? Her dream would be that we could all go swimming one day, but you know that I can’t swim, right? Anyway, I really wanna be able to do that for her but she’s too big to teach me, so Jameson is giving me swimming lessons down by the lake. We always say that we’re going to the bar downtown, and I don’t think she really believes us but she never presses any further.  _

“Hi”, Jamie leaned against the door to the study in her flowery maternity dress, and her hair up into a bun. She smiled when Dean turned his attention to her.

“Hi.” He returned her smile.

“Sam?” 

“Yeah.” Dean nods. “I’ll be right with you.” 

She frowned. “No you won’t.” Jamie walked into the room and stood beside him so Dean could place his arm around her waist, his cheek rested against her belly as she cradled his cheek, one hand stroking the short hair at the back of his neck. “You take your time. I’m going to check on Hope and take a shower.”

He kissed her belly. “Okay, I’ll see you in bed.” 

She smiled before she walked out.

_ Jamie just came home, Sammy. I think I’ll draw a line here, too. My fingers are starting to hurt. I am thankful for the notebook. I really am. I think it’s easier for me to put my thoughts into words — to have an outlet for all the things that I have in my head. Even if I have people around me who had been through the same, they still didn’t go through what I went through. Jamie wasn’t a prisoner, and I am fucking thankful that she went home before shit got serious. I don’t even want to imagine what they would have done to her if they would have found her with me. I don’t even want to think of all the horrors, because it would only make me angry.  _

_ You know, they have psychiatrists working for the Army. I tried it once, but they only said “Try to act normal then you will begin to think normal, too.” That’s like an hour of my life that I will never get back. Try acting normal. The fuck does that mean anyway? _

_ Ah, I shouldn’t work myself up now. I need to calm down and honestly, I can’t wait to slip into the bed next to Jamie, maybe listen to what she has to say about her day, I like that. Like to listen to her everyday life, it makes me think that sometimes the world isn’t so cruel to me after all. Honestly I still don’t know how I deserve all this. Deserve to come home, have kids, be with my girl… I wish you could be here, Sam. _

_ I miss you very much. _

_ Good night. _

_ Dean _

  
  


Dean closes his notebook and walked into the bathroom as Jamie brushed her teeth. He took a toothbrush and squeezed some toothpaste on it before he brushed his own teeth, eyes Jamie through the little mirror screwed to the wall. He thought that she looked exhausted, more so tonight than on any other night. He’s worried about her. She needed to rest. Maybe he’d whisk her away the coming weekend and go somewhere just the two of them. 

“Stop staring,” Jamie said, spitting out toothpaste. She rinsed her brush, a playful frown on her face.

“I’m not.” He laughed when Jamie sent him a gaze with her lips curved into a grin before she walked out.

  
  
  


********

  
  
  


**June 2nd, 1946**

_ SAMMY THEY ARE COMING! _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
